Fang Talks

Over a month in the making!

As an amateur writer I sometimes like writing short, often single-part works. Here you’ll find the ones I chose to publish for whatever reason. Enjoy.

We don’t venture into the eastern woods. But accidents happen.

I recall being sent out to forage. “Don’t wander too deep.” As dangerous as it was, and I didn’t know why, the fruits in those trees were much too valuable to pass up. The territory was uncharted as far as I had been told. Uncharted because of the fearsome creatures that lurked there after dark. Uncharted because generation after generation had grown up in fear of those legends. And those why tried conquering those fears, they never returned.

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For three days she sat in the mud and cried. Cried for her little boy to return.

And then he did. Limping, barely conscious, he emerged from the eastern woods. She ran to him, geld him tight. His clothes torn to shreds, his arms and face red with blood, but he seemed unharmed. He passed out in his mother’s arms, but it didn’t matter anymore. Somehow, he had survived. Gotten lost in the woods, and lived to tell the tale.

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I see things. Things people don’t like me seeing.

So they send me to the doctor, doctor sends me to the hospital, hospital sends me to the pharmacy, pharmacy sends me home with a bottle of pills. I would’ve taken them. I really would’ve. If I hadn’t seen what I had seen. Doctors plagued by demons of bad conscience. Ghouls and other critters roaming the hospital halls. A pharmacy getting its stock eaten up by ceiling crawlers.

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Morning wasn’t supposed to be here just yet, but something woke you.

An unfamiliar voice, singing unwritten songs in unknown tongues. From outside, through the window pane, under the curtains. Louder than a whisper, it didn’t let you fall back to sleep. But sleep was the one thing you wanted, for morning wasn’t supposed to be here just yet.

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Imagine walking into a library. From the outside, it doesn’t appear too big.

On the inside, a staircase. It seems to go up many, many more floors than you ever thought the building could house. The walls are hidden behind shelves, shelves filled with leather, leather binding parchment, carefully graced with ink. Every single document carefully categorized, ordered and preserved for your perusing pleasure. This is all the Gods ever learned of their worlds, and all this they did to pass it on.

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